


never quite as it seems

by Ablissa



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Psychic Abilities, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 21:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17129153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ablissa/pseuds/Ablissa
Summary: Phil has a unique gift that allows him to see something he never expected to see - his best friend Dan, meeting the person that would most likely become the love of his life.It hasn't happened yet, and right now, Dan has no idea what lies ahead.When old feelings resurface and every choice may have a big impact on the upcoming events, will Phil be able to make the right decision?





	never quite as it seems

**Author's Note:**

  * For [philsgiggles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/philsgiggles/gifts).



> This is a prompt fill for [moonroomsnuggles](https://moonroomsnuggles.tumblr.com/), for the prompt "AU! Not YouTubers but other celebrities are fine. Magic would be fun too..."  
> Thank you for this lovely prompt and I really hope you will like this! I'm so scared :) Happy Holidays, you seem like a wonderful person and I was happy to get the chance to write a fic for you!

 

_No. No. No._

_That's... No. That can't be right. No._

_No._

_No? But why not?_

*

Rays of sun suddenly slip past the clouds, temporarily blinding him as he surveys his surroundings, trying to figure out where exactly he ended up at this time.

 

The world is engulfed in a sea of flowers. Roses, lilacs, tulips, orchids, hydrangeas, daisies, forget-me-nots, and more that he doesn't know the names of. Everywhere he looks he finds an abundance of them, vibrantly coloured and unusually large, all of them neatly placed in baskets, of which there are far too many for him to count.

It's a warm and pleasant day, and all he hears is the sound of the wind combined with the soft buzz of bees that he knows are there but cannot see. It's not a place he is familiar with, but then again, it might not even be true to the real thing - and in the back of his mind, he knows that.

Looking around, he starts walking the stone paved path which is strangely situated in the middle of a field. His step is slow and tentative. There is no one else around. It's just him – just Phil - and all these beautiful, almost too perfect flowers. _Real flowers don't look like this_ , he thinks in passing. Real flowers don't have such impeccable colouring, and real flowers don't come in such big sizes.

 

He reaches out, brushing the flowers as he walks past them. He picks one of the roses and tries to smell it. The smell is strong and sickly sweet, unlike any rose he'd ever smelled before.

No, this is not real, definitely not.

But the thing is, in a way, it _is._

 

Phil walks on, knowing that he is seeing this for a reason. Knowing that he had been brought here because he needed to see something. Not just the flowers, surely. Something else.

After a few minutes of walking the path, he sees something in the distance that wasn't there before. A person that seemingly materialized out of thin air. The person is facing away from him, and their shape slowly starts to become clearer to Phil.

Phil isn't scared. It's always like this.

He only grows wary when he begins to recognise the person. Even without seeing their face, he knows, he just instantly _knows_.

It's Dan. His best friend Dan.

Phil picks up pace, walking faster now, but at some point, he reaches an invisible wall. He can't go any farther. This is all he will get to see. He stands with his hands pressed against the transparent glass, watching as the scene begins to fully unfold before his eyes. The only thing he manages to do is to move to the side, which allows him to see Dan better.

Thanks to that, he also sees the other person approach Dan. They're walking and then they're running, practically jumping into Dan's arms.

Phil can't see who it is. They're just a dark shadow. What he does see, though, is Dan. Dan's expression going from shock, surprise, uncertainty... all the way to complete, utter delight. This is the kind of smile Phil sees on Dan's face on very rare occasions. This is the kind of smile that speaks of pure happiness.

And that smile is not for meant for Phil. It's for _them_ – that shadow, that silhouette of an unknown person. And suddenly, it dawns on Phil.

This is Dan, meeting the person he loves. Phil is seeing it, and it's not clear yet, because the person is unknown to Phil right now. But this is the future. This is what will happen.

Stunned, he watches as Dan brushes the person's cheek, his expression growing tender. Dan then kisses them without hesitation, the smile on his face not fading even for a second.

 

Phil's head begins to hurt as at that point, everything starts to shut down. The flowers wilt and fade away. The sun sets, leaving the sky pitch black.

The last thing he sees is Dan, mouthing the word _hello._

 

*

 

"Phil? You alright?"

Phil shakes his head, keeping his eyes closed for a few seconds. Once he opens them, reality comes back to him rather quickly.

He is home, at the flat he shares with his best friend Dan, and they're playing a game on their PlayStation. It's... It's _late_ , really late. They shouldn't even be awake.

But they are, only Phil's mind drifted away for a moment. He doesn't know how long it was this time.

He frowns, confused still, looking down from Dan's face and at his own lap. His fingers are wrapped around Dan's hand, squeezing tight enough to leave a temporary mark on Dan's skin.

Suddenly, he remembers. He tried to tear Dan's hand away from the controller. He wanted to win. For a few seconds, he forgot to be careful, and it caught up to him so fast. No wonder seeing Dan was a surprise. He had never meant for this to happen.

He lets go of Dan's hand abruptly, grabbing his own controller once again and releasing a long, tired exhale.

"Fine, yeah, 'm fine."

Understanding flashes in Dan's eyes as they flit down to his hand and then back up to meet Phil's.

"You had another one, right? You had a... a vision."

Phil looks at Dan, unsure of how to proceed. For some reason, he really doesn't feel like telling Dan what he had just seen. The memory of Dan kissing that stranger is etched in Phil's mind, and he doesn't want to share it, for so many different reasons.

This isn't the time. He has to act fast..

"Yeah, I did. Was something stupid, you going to get milk," he lies.

A miniscule frown comes and goes. Dan rolls his eyes, grinning at Phil with that _you're an idiot_ expression that they have both perfected over the years.

"I'm not getting milk, you dumbo. You're doing the grocery run tomorrow." Dan ruffles Phil's hair. Phil scrunches his nose, but he's smiling. "Your head's not working properly, mate."

_It really isn't, is it?_

 

Phil has a bit of a gift, but most often, he considers it a curse.

Long story short, he can see the future. It sounds amazing, but it really isn't. It's more of an issue than a blessing, and Phil usually likes to keep it hidden.

It's not as cool as, say, being a fortune teller at a fair. It's not as useful as being able to predict winning lottery numbers. It's not as fun as being able to use it whenever, under any circumstances. And the worst thing is, he has no control over what he sees.

It's all visions, snapshots of a future that is still yet to come, and it's not like a record player. He doesn't get to choose which track to play. They find him, and all he can do is open his eyes and look.

 

It all started when Phil was quite little, maybe four or five. His grandma took his hand as they were on the way to get some ice cream, and all of a sudden, he fell to his knees. Before his eyes, he saw his very first vision. It was a simple thing that he still remembers very clearly: his grandma scolding Phil's brother Martyn for breaking a porcelain cup.

Phil started crying, of course. He was terrified and had a hard time getting the words out through his tears, but his grandma quickly caught on to what he was trying to tell her.

At the time, she didn't say anything. She only told him not to tell her what he just saw.

A few hours later, as Martyn was playing in their grandma's living room, he accidentally knocked down a porcelain cup filled with tea.

Phil sat down on the carpet, staring with his eyes wide open, as his earlier vision came to life. Everything grandma said was the same. Martyn's expression was the same. Only the surroundings were different, but the cup—the cup was the same too.

Grandma paused and glanced at Phil with an understanding expression. She hadn't explained things to him then, but she did when these visions continued happening.

 

Apparently, it's a thing that happens in their family. Phil's grandma has it, although not to the same extent. Her mum – Phil's great grandma - had it, and her sister too. She thought it was gone when it didn't pass down to her daughter, Phil's mum Kath, but apparently, it laid dormant and waited for Phil to be born.

She explained things to him a bit, but in the end, his gift turned out to be unique, different from what his grandma had. Hers was less specific – mostly feelings and ideas of what would happen – while Phil's does tell him approximately what to expect, but... But yeah. It's all random and jumbled and feels like a dream, when it's most definitely not.

And most of the time, it only happens when he touches someone's hand. He doesn't, thankfully, just get visions about people he'd never met. But on occasion, he gets struck with a vision out of nowhere, and it's always about someone he knows. It has only happened a few times before.

 

Phil shakes his head, willing himself back to reality. He can control this. He'd learned over the years. He _can_ touch other people without being plagued by their futures.

But sometimes, like today, he just forgets to flip that mental switch.

 

Dan is studying him with a hint of a frown on his face, and Phil's mind circles back to that vision.

The thing with his visions is, they usually come true. Not always, but _usually_. But when, where, how? He hadn't learned that from this vision. Perhaps he will have another one.

Maybe he should avoid touching Dan for a while. For some reason, he just doesn't want to know.

"Are you having one again?" Dan asks him, now slightly concerned. "No, you're not, are you? You're not touching my hand."

Phil finds it mildly amusing how Dan seems to read his mind at times. Of course, Dan doesn't have a gift like Phil does. Most people don't. But it does feel like their connection is different from what he'd experienced before. They finish each other's sentences and often catch themselves thinking of the same thing at the exact same time. It's nice.

Maybe that's just how it is to have a best friend, and for the past six years, his best friend had been Dan, and Dan only. And Phil doesn't like to keep secrets from him, but he still doesn't mention the real vision he had.

"I'm just tired," Phil dismisses. "Can we finish this tomorrow?"

"Yeah, 'course." Dan turns off the game and stands up, the hem of his shirt riding up as he stretches. Phil averts his eyes. "I'm gonna go shower. Unless you want to go first?"

Phil rubs his forehead for a second, in that way he always does whenever he gets a headache. He doesn't have a headache right now.

"No, you can, um, you can go, Dan."

Their eyes meet, and all Phil can see is Dan kissing that unknown person. He hates the vision thing, honestly. He'd much rather not know about this.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Dan inquires after a moment of silence.

"Just tired," Phil repeats. "Go shower, you have work in the morning, don't you?"

Dan's expression instantly sours. "Fuck, I haven't even worked on the script for tomorrow."

"Try singing some Celine Dion while you shower. Celine always helps me get into that creative _mood_ ," Phil says, trying to sound suggestive, as he wags his eyebrows. Dan rolls his eyes in reply, but there's a fond grin on his face that tells Phil it was just amusing enough.

"I'm sure our neighbours would absolutely _love_ that, Phil. Anyway, toodles. Be right back."

Dan pads out of the lounge, leaving Phil alone to think.

 

He and Dan have lived together for four years, and for all of those four years, they've been single. Phil can't say he'd never gone on a date, because he tried. He tried once and twice and then some more... but at the end of the day, he always came home to play some games with Dan, or to watch one of their favourite shows, or to listen to him rant about something he read on some weird internet forum. And it was the same for Dan. They're barely ever apart.

In a way, it's convenient. They both dislike being alone, but don't just want to be with _anyone_. They both like almost all the same things. They're both nocturnal and they both have busy jobs. They both work for the same tv station, although they run different segments – Phil does the weather, and Dan does music.

Although they're no celebrities, they definitely could afford living on their own, but they choose not to. It's more fun this way, and it helps them fend off loneliness.

It's an unspoken deal, an acknowledgement, that if one of them ever gets a partner, they will likely move out. And it's okay, it's alright. Most people don't get to spend their lives living with their best friend. Most people go and start families and end up only meeting their best friend once a year.

Phil never wanted them to be _most people_ , but for someone with the ability to see the future, he thinks of the future very rarely.

 

But sometimes, his visions force him to think of it, and this particular one doesn't seem to want to leave him alone.

 

*

 

_What do you mean?_

_I lied to you._

_You lied? When? Why?_

_I..._

_Why?_

"Make me dinner," Phil whines in lieu of _hello_ , immediately flopping down on the sofa, right next to Dan.

Dan elbows him under the rib, only further adding to his misery. Every single muscle in his body _hurts_. Even the muscles that most probably don't exist seem to hurt. It. Hurts.

"What am I, your flipping maid? _You_ make dinner today. I took out the rubbish bin _and_ I did the dishes."

"But Dan..." Phil pauses for dramatic effect, meeting his friend's eyes with a miserable expression. "I spent half the afternoon _climbing_. Climbing that same hill twenty times over because they had to get the best shot. I'm _aching_."

Dan begins to crack under the pressure of Phil's puppy eyed stare, but he doesn't give in quite yet.

"How do you stay so fit if the only workout you ever do is the weekly grocery run?" Dan muses, insulting and complimenting Phil all at once.

"Having to keep up with your annoying personality takes a lot of energy, Dan. It keeps me youthful, really," Phil fires back without a thought.

"You sound like my grandma." Dan's grin grows mischievous as he adds, "You're about the same age, too."

Phil snorts. "What, so your grandma is barely three years older than you? How does _that_ work? No, you know what, don't tell me. Don't want to know what you and your family get up to."

"You may be nearly three years older, but by _heart_ , you're the same age as my grandma."

Phil lets out a sigh of fake exasperation. He then very deliberately pouts, watching Dan's expression as he stares at his lips.

"Please. _Dinner_. Or we order something. I literally can't move from this sofa, Dan."

Dan frowns, re-focusing his gaze back on Phil's eyes. "I say we order something. I'm tired as fuck."

"We order in like every other day," Phil says, but he's already pulling up the pizza delivery app on his phone. "We're going to physically turn into a large pizza."

"Is that one of your premonitions?" Dan teases him, looking over to see his phone screen. He rests his head on Phil's shoulder.

"Just for you. I'm going to turn into Chris Hemsworth because of all the exercise."

"Becoming a pizza is a fitting end to my existence, to be honest," Dan deadpans, then suddenly shrieks, startling Phil. "No! Not that one! No, stop, if you click there it freezes—oh, my god. Phil. For all the times we order, you still haven't learned how to use the damn app."

Phil makes an offended kind of sound and continues, but Dan already has other plans. He reaches past his arm and stops just before taking the phone away from Phil.

"Can I?" Dan asks.

"Yeah," Phil says, bracing himself just in case Dan ends up touching his hand. Dan never touches him there without permission. He knows how much Phil hates getting these visions at random.

Especially now. But that, Dan does _not_ know.

Dan's fingers brush his, and Phil feels it, kind of. A short tug somewhere in his chest, a split second of darkness before his eyes. But he's learned to avoid it, so the vision never comes.

The fact is though, that if there was nothing to be seen, Phil wouldn't feel anything. His gift wants to tell him something more.

He just doesn't want to listen.

"See? You click _there_ ," Dan lectures him, but Phil is not paying attention, so Dan bumps Phil's knee with his. "Pay attention, Philip. Ordering pizza is a mandatory life skill for someone like you."

"I can cook."

"I'm better."

"Maybe, but you refused to do it, so shut up and order the pizza," Phil says with a grin, playfully squeezing Dan's cheek until Dan shoves him away.

"And the cookies."

"And the cookies. Obviously."

 

*

_Three weeks later_

 

Phil stands near the camera operator, watching Dan as he interviews some singer Phil had never heard of before. Phil's eyes track Dan's every movement, but for the most part, they are glued to Dan's elated expression. Dan loves his job, even if he complains about the long hours and the amount of extra work. The love he has for what he does definitely shows in the way that he speaks.

Dan is so different on camera than he is with Phil. His voice is different, as are his mannerisms and most of all, the things he says. But Phil likes to watch him when he can, likes to see that side of him that is separate from their friendship.

He feels proud of Dan, really. They met at uni, so Phil had seen Dan rise from professionally-zero to almost-but-not-quite-yet hero with his own eyes.

 

Phil briefly glances at the singer now. He seems nice, quite fit, laughs a lot. Released a new album or something. Phil kind of missed out on the information while watching his best friend. But this singer is leaning awfully close in Dan's direction, and he seems to make eye contact whenever possible, and not for the first time, Phil wonders.

_Is this the one, then?_

Phil hates how that question is one he asks himself on a nearly daily basis now.

He still hadn't told Dan. Still isn't sure if he even should. But that place with the flowers and everything is unfamiliar to him, so he does wonder if perhaps, Dan might need some guidance to even get there.

But then again, it's already set in stone, isn't it? His grandma always warned him, told him not to interfere. Phil had been lucky enough to be spared visions that were drastic. He didn't have to see his grandfather's passing, for one. But he'd seen breakups, and he'd seen cheating, and he'd seen tears.

He _did_ warn people sometimes, when he was younger. But that was before they started calling him a freak.

 

Dan starts wrapping up and a minute later, the director gives him an approving nod. Both Dan and the singer get up, but they don't walk off yet. Phil waits and watches as they talk - definitely amicable and still funny even with the camera off. Dan is laughing; the singer is too. Phil has to stop himself from walking over.

Phil can't wait for them to go home, order some takeout, and hopefully do something fun enough for him to forget that for the first time, he is keeping a pretty major secret from Dan. It's been eating at him every single day.

It's tough on him. For one, because he knows Dan would be delighted. It's no secret that they both _want_ a relationship – they just haven't had any luck in that department. Two, because telling Dan might actually have some sort of an impact on this version of the future, maybe even prevent it. Three, because if it all does change from mere vision to reality, Phil will be losing Dan's constant company pretty soon.

If this vision comes true, it will probably be within the next few months. The longest he'd ever gone was eight.

 

Dan approaches him after saying goodbye to the singer. He's wearing a perfectly tailored black suit jacket with just one button and a white shirt underneath, and he's got a smile bright enough to light up the whole of London.

Phil is being cheesy by thinking like this, he knows. He just loves seeing Dan so accomplished. Just a few years ago, both of them weren't sure if things would turn out well. They were broke, fresh out of uni, and both wanted to pursue careers that aren't easy to get into.

Phil _did_ have a vision for Dan back then, one that helped him reassure his friend, but he had no idea what was in the store for him. Phil never gets visions about his own future.

Maybe it's for the best.

By the time Phil's head escapes the past and comes back into the present, Dan's grin had faded into a small frown.

"You okay? You look a bit out of it again," Dan asks him quietly, wary of all the people around them.

"I'm just tired," Phil says, his favourite go-to excuse as of late.

"You know I don't buy that anymore, right?"

Phil purses his lips, not knowing what to say, and shrugs. It makes sense for Dan not to believe him anymore, but Phil is not ready to reveal the vision to him yet, even though he most probably _should_.

"You were amazing!" Phil says cheerfully instead, ignoring the previous subject. "Who even was that?"

Dan looks up to the ceiling and throws his head back. Once he looks at Phil, it's with a weary, worried expression.

"You're avoiding. _Again_."

"I'm not avoiding anything," Phil dismisses.

"You are. You've been weird for a couple weeks now."

Phil doesn't know what to say to that. Dan is right, of course he is. But for the first time, Phil doesn't want to tell him what the problem is.

Out of the corner of his eye, Phil notices someone from the production team standing close by, staring at them. Phil then leans in to whisper in Dan's ear.

"Let's not do this here, Dan."

Dan pauses for a moment, then seemingly realises they're not alone. He sighs.

"Fine, I'm letting you off the hook. _For now_." A small smile appears on his face "And are you kidding me? You didn't even know who that was? I taught you better than that, Phil."

"Apparently not," Phil replies with a smile.

Dan rolls his eyes. "Are you done for the day?"

"Since like an hour ago. Figured I'd wait for you."

Once more, Dan looks him in the eyes for a few seconds. Phil somehow loses track of all the people around them; for a moment there, he only sees Dan.

It's like before - it's like it was when they first met. But he'd gotten over that, right? Nothing major happened back then. They would flirt and joke around and even snogged after a drunken night out. But after that, everything _stopped_.

It's alright. They built an amazing friendship out of it. Phil shouldn't think back to the past.

 

They break eye contact, Dan walks over to the producer, exchanges some final remarks, and then he's free to go. They both head home, somewhat aware of the stares. Some people in the office like to speculate.

Soon enough, all of their speculations will be silenced, because Dan will start dating somebody else. It's only a matter of time.

The shop windows are decorated for Valentine's Day. Hearts, roses, teddy bears and all that, everything that serves to remind Phil of how lonely it'll get when Dan inevitably focuses on this new relationship, this so-called love of his life. Of course, nobody said _that_ out loud in his vision, but Phil _felt_ it, and he knows by now that he can trust his gut feeling.

 

Once they're home, they order in – _again_ – and put on a new episode of _Westworld._ They watch it in relative silence. Phil sometimes feels Dan glance in his direction, but he chooses to ignore it.

Dan doesn't ignore it, though. The episode ends, and instead of putting on something else or suggesting they play a game, Dan nudges Phil's knee with his own, grabbing his attention. Once Phil does look him in the eye, he sighs with resignation. He doesn't need a gift to be able to tell what Dan is about to say, because they've been leading up to this for some time.

"Are you going to talk to me? Or are you gonna keep pretending?" Dan asks him at last, his voice quiet and calm.

Phil inhales sharply. He knew this was coming, but he still didn't want it to.

The problem is, when he looks at Dan, he sees that vision, and he doesn't know why it bothers him. In all fairness, he should be happy for his friend. Instead, he is already mourning the loss of his company before Dan even met his match. Phil is already living a future that _will_ happen, but did not happen _yet_ , instead of enjoying this while it lasts.

But is it fair to keep it from Dan? Dan is one of the very few people that knows about Phil's gift and does not ridicule him for it. Phil usually tells him about his visions, because he'd never had one that he would have a good reason to keep, not about Dan.

Not until now.

He needs to tell Dan, he can't keep this from him any longer.

"You're—you're right, Dan. I've not been honest with you."

Silence falls for a surprised moment, only to be replaced by Dan's unsteady whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"I lied to you."

Dan knits his brows, a look of alarm appearing on his face. "You _lied_ to me? When? Why?"

"I..." Phil pauses. How does he even say this? And why does it feel like there's more to say than just the vision? Because that's not the only thing that he's been keeping from Dan. There are also his thoughts on the matter.

"Why?" Dan repeats.

Dan turns in the sofa so that he can face Phil fully, but Phil doesn't do the same. He merely tilts his head in Dan's direction, shooting him a long, hesitant look.

"Because I was scared," Phil replies, and before Dan gets the chance to ask, he changes the subject. "And I lied about the... the thing I'd seen a few weeks back. You know, the vision? When we were playing and I—"

"—and you grabbed my hand, yeah," Dan finishes the sentence, glancing to the side for a few seconds before bringing his focus back to Phil. "What was it really, then?"

There it is. The question Phil simultaneously expected and dreaded.

But he's too far in to turn back now.

"I saw you meet someone you love," Phil blurts out.

After a long pause, Dan utters, "Wait, what?"

"In that vision. It was like—there was this weird place filled with flowers, and I saw you and—and someone else, I don't know who. And you just—you just _lit up_ when you saw them, you know? You were like the sun." Phil clears his throat, suddenly feeling awkward, but he continues. "And they ran up to you and you—and you said something and you kissed them."

Phil sees the vision before his eyes yet again, much the way he had been seeing it daily over the past few weeks. He feels a pang in his chest, something painful and still yet to be named. Dan merely looks at him, perplexed and visibly moved, so Phil adds something else.

"I could tell that you loved them," Phil whispers, "it was just... it was in your eyes."

Dan takes a deep breath. Phil expected a lot from this moment. He expected happiness and he expected anger. But instead of that, Dan asks him something else, in a voice that is thick with emotion.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Phil can only repeat, "I was scared."

"You were _scared_ ," Dan echoes.

"Yeah."

"Why would you be scared?"

Why was he scared? Solid question. Far too many answers, most of which Phil cannot share.

"I didn't want to change the future by telling you."

Dan accepts that answer. He finally breaks eye contact, looking down at his own hands, seemingly overwhelmed by the weight of the future Phil had predicted for him. Dan, like Phil, knows by now that most of Phil's visions come true. That this will most likely happen.

Phil is taken aback when Dan suddenly lets out a quiet chuckle.

"How would that even happen, Phil? That doesn't exactly seem like a first date. How would I already love them?"

"Maybe you've already met them, or you will soon," Phil muses, trying to hide the pain behind a mask of indifference.

"Yeah, like _where_? I'm always with you."

"At work? On the street? I dunno, Dan." Phil falls quiet for a minute before adding, "All I know is what I've seen. You'll probably meet them soon."

They remain quiet for a few minutes, but to Phil, it feels like an eternity. This must have been written in the stars too – them having this conversation. Maybe this will be the push that Dan needs for that version of the future to come true.

Maybe Phil is the one that truly makes it happen?

As Phil remains lost in his own thoughts, Dan finally looks up, seeking eye contact.

"Promise me you won't keep things from me again?" Dan says, a plea visible in his eyes and easily heard in his voice.

At this point, it won't change much.

"Promise."

 

*

_This is weird..._

_What is?_

_It's just..._

 

Weeks pass, and things are different, but also the same.

They don't talk about Phil's vision, but Phil knows that Dan keeps his eyes peeled for that mysterious stranger. And Phil, Phil is always on edge, waiting and anticipating the moment when Dan says, _I think this is it. I've met someone._

They still play games together, they watch shows, they try – and fail – to cook more and they meet up with their friends on occasion. But for the first time in the history of their friendship, it feels like they're both not being fully honest. Like something is wrong.

Well, actually, it's not quite the first time. Phil remembers that crush he used to have on Dan. And he wonders.

If he were braver back then, what would the future even be like? Maybe that vision would never appear. Maybe things would be so much different. But he _wasn't_ braver. When they stumbled home from a party all those years ago, completely smashed, he had the chance to see a glimpse of a future that would never take place. He learned how Dan tasted and he heard what he said. He heard that _you're perfect_. He did hear it.

But the next morning, they both pretended it didn't happen. Why? Were they scared? Maybe Dan regretted it. Phil watched him, waited for signs that never came. For weeks they avoided eye contact and barely ever smiled. As if they _both_ waited. Phil knows that he did.

It never happened, and somehow, they were able to get over it.

Finally, the day came when something was _really, really_ funny, and they laughed. They laughed like before, and it just sort of went from there.

Maybe in the back of his head, Phil always _did_ wonder. But he'd never seen any version of a future in which things would change – in which their friendship would change into something else. Years passed, they found jobs and grew closer as people, as two human beings, and somehow, Phil valued that above all else.

It just wasn't worth the risk.

But now? Will things change now, when Dan finally meets that mysterious person?

 

Over the past weeks, Phil avoided touching Dan. He felt a pull – he knew that his gift wanted him to check, to take a look – but he avoided it. He didn't want more details. He figured he'd wait for the future to actually take place. He didn't want a sneak peek, not this time.

 

Spring was only just starting to settle in, chasing away some of the clouds and giving way to the occasional ray of sun. Phil decided it was time for a quick trip to visit his parents, who live on the Isle of Man. A risk, really – leaving Dan with more time on his own, more time to meet that person – but it was the good kind of risk. Phil _did_ want Dan to be happy; he just never thought of the impact that kind of happiness would probably have on their friendship.

 

 _I'll miss you_ , Dan says when they part at the door to their flat. And it's not in any way revolutionary – they say things like that to each other sometimes. But this time, it makes Phil's heart skip a singular beat.

 

*

 

"Come on then, give us a little peek." Phil's mum pats the seat next to hers, smiling at Phil.

Phil rolls his eyes, but chooses to oblige. He doesn't really like it, but he usually gets asked to take a look at the future of most of his family members when he comes home.

At least they never ridiculed him for it, which is more than can be said for pretty much everyone except Dan.

"Mum, I'm not a fortune cookie," Phil whines before starting. "I feel _abused_."

"Oh, give it a rest, child. Abused! Abused, he says! If _you_ were the one spending fifteen hours in labour—"

"Okay, okay, fine, just stop, stop," he sputters.

They're both still laughing when he takes his mum's hand and shuts his eyes.

 

His eyes fly open, but it's still mostly dark out.

He surveys his surroundings. He's out in a field, underneath a starry, cloudless sky. Definitely outside the city. Blades of grass are tickling his bare ankles and the air smells of a hot summer night. There is no one around, but that's not unusual. It always takes a while for him to see the subject of his vision.

He begins trudging through the grass, breathing in. It's a beautiful vision, and they aren't always – it reminds him of the blasted flower one he had about Dan, but he forces his brain in the right direction. He knows he came here to check up on his mum's future, not Dan's.

But why would his mum be out in a field in the middle of the night?

Phil picks up pace, trying to make sense of this vision. After a while, he hears voices in the distance, and he knows he made it to his destination.

He keeps on walking until he finally sees two people, laid out on the grass. They're laid on their backs, looking up at the sky, talking and laughing quietly.

Phil frowns, and the frown only deepens when his vision becomes clearer.

Neither of those two people is his mum.

One is him, and the other one is Dan.

 

What on earth—

Phil never, ever gets to see his own future. Perhaps he's seeing Dan's? But why? He knows he's with his mum right now, so it's her future he should be seeing. He should see anything but this. Baking fair, Christmas presents, an argument with his dad, a trip to Florida. He should be seeing _Kath_.

But he is not. He knows without a shade of doubt that this is just he, Phil, and his best friend Dan.

He looks around, properly shocked now, expecting his mum to join the vision anytime. But there is no one else around, and as he keeps on looking, he begins to recognise the surroundings. Out in the distance, he sees a faint outline of waves and the reflection of the moon, unusually large and bright, shining in the sea.

This is Isle of Man in the summer. This is one of the places they visit when hiking sometimes.

But why—

He manages to catch a glimpse of Dan deliberately taking his hand, and then the headache hits him. Seconds later, he's back out, back in reality.

_What on earth was that?_

 

He rubs his eyes and then his temples, finally looking at his mum, who immediately places her hand on his forehead, as if checking for temperature.

Oh, right. He used to get fevers when doing this, back when he was little.

"Are you alright, love?" she asks him urgently. "Did you see something bad?"

Phil shakes his head. He can't understand a thing of it.

"No, mum—I—don't worry. I... this is weird."

"What is?"

"It's just... I didn't even see _you_."

Concern transforms into surprise as Kath repeats, "You didn't see _me_?"

"No, I saw myself. It was—it was really weird. I saw me and Dan."

 

He does eventually get a good look at his mum's future. Apparently, she's going to win a hundred quid if she plays the lotto.

But how did he manage to mess up the first vision so badly?

 

*

 

When he comes back home, Dan seems positively delighted. He hugs him the moment he steps through the door and begins to recount everything that happened in his absence, as if they didn't text throughout each and every day.

Again, Phil has a secret, but he doesn't intend to keep that one. He just thought it'd work better if told in person.

 

Dan had gone out of his way and cooked dinner to celebrate Phil's return. It's edible, although takeout probably tastes a _little_ better, but Phil loves homemade food enough to compliment every tiny bite. Dan glances at him now and then, smiling softly, asking all sorts of questions about his trip.

It takes Phil some guts, but he speaks up while they're still sat at the kitchen table.

"I had a really weird um, vision. When I was at my parents'."

Dan's grin immediately fades as his eyes widen. Unlike Phil, Dan always expects the worst.

"What was it?" Dan asks him warily.

"I was—I was going to check my mum's future, yeah? Took her hand and bam, I'm in this—in this field on Isle of Man, near the cliffs by the sea. It's nighttime and it's all beautiful and starry and—"

"And?"

"—and mum wasn't even there. It was just you and me. We were like, lying in the grass and talking. It's weird. I've never seen my own future before. And why would we even be out in a field at night? Think of all the bugs—" Phil looks up from his plate when he hears Dan gasp a little. Dan's features twist into something akin to fear. "What?"

"Did you see the moon? Really, really big?"

Now it is Phil's turn to gasp. His eyes are boring into Dan's with unusual intensity as it begins to dawn on him.

"How do you know?" Phil asks quietly, voice filled with disbelief.

"I've… I've dreamt it."

"You've had a dream like this?"

"Exactly like it, Phil. I've had that same _exact_ fucking dream. Two days ago." That's when Phil had seen the vision. It all makes even less sense now. "This is, um, it's sorta freaking me out a little bit."

Phil frowns. This is definitely very weird for him too, but he's more used to weird than Dan - he's been experiencing it his whole life. On instinct, he reaches out to cover Dan's hand with his own, but stops himself just in time. That wouldn't make anything better right now.

But Dan sees what he is about to do and touches his arm, trying to hold it in place.

They stare each other in the eyes, both filled with endless questions. A shiver runs down Phil's spine at the mere feeling of Dan's fingers brushing his bare arm.

It's...

It's a mess, is what it is. He's lonely and the thought of losing Dan—the thought of losing what he has before him right now—it's almost unbearable.

Phil knows he's making excuses without even saying any of them out loud.

"Please." Dan breaks the silence. His voice is low and little more than a whisper. "Check. I want to know more."

"You hate when I check," Phil reminds him weakly after a pause. "You don't like to know."

"I _need_ to know, Phil. Okay? Please? Check."

Phil may not even find out more about the stranger from the flower-filled version of reality. He may see something useless, or he may see nothing at all.

No, it won't be nothing. He'd known for weeks, felt that pull, he'd known that there is more to be seen.

With a sigh of defeat, he takes Dan's hand in his, looking him in the eyes until everything goes black.

 

*

He is back in that same scene: the flowers, the buzzing of bees, the gentle rays of sun. Only this time, it feels more realistic. The flowers aren't nearly as many, their colours are dimmed by shades of reality, and their size is back to normal. When he looks around, he notes that the baskets of flowers are now set up in stalls, but there is no one here.

 

He runs instead of walking, knowing the direction he should go in. It's for his own sake now, not Dan's. He wants to see who the person is – who it is that Dan is going to kiss.

But much to his frustration, he finds that invisible wall before ever finding Dan.

He groans, hitting the thing with his fist, and looks around for other places to go.

It is then that his gaze falls on the sign that he'd previously missed.

 

_Summer Flower Show_

_Chelsea Physic Garden_

_Jul 28_ _ th _ _-Jul 29_ _ th _

This is it! This is the detail he needed. This is the route that will lead Dan to meet this mysterious person. He spins around, peering his eyes for Dan, and he finally sees him in the distance, staring right at Phil.

Before he gets to see anything else, Phil is being pulled back to reality.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath the moment he comes to, seeing Dan's worried face right in front of him.

"What? Phil? Phil, what happened?" Dan urges, squeezing Phil's hand even tighter. Phil steels himself, making sure he is not struck by another one of his visions. He doesn't really want Dan to let go.

But he will have to. Dan _will_ let go. Dan will truly be lost to him on July 28th. He'd never seen them become a couple, not in any version of the future, but sometimes... Sometimes, he...

Doesn't matter now. This is what will happen. It's _bound_ to happen.

He bites down on his lip and after a heavy sigh, he says, "I know where it will happen."

 

*

_I can't do this._

 

Spring flies by in a blur of emotions, both Phil's and Dan's.

Phil often finds himself lost in thought.

He looks Dan in the eyes for a little too long. He falls asleep with his head in Dan's lap. He feeds him cookies while Dan's hands are too busy with _Crash Bandicoot_. Dan gives him a massage after a long day, smacks his hand away when he tries to steal bits of food before dinner is ready, and listens to him complain about the unpredictability of the weather. It is weird, isn't it? He's supposedly psychic, but still gets the forecasts wrong and people blame _him_ , even though he only delivers the news. Dan patiently listens, insults everyone involved except Phil, and allows him to win the next four races of _Mario Kart_.

But despite all that, Phil knows there's a timer on this stuff. Soon Dan will have someone else to do all this with, and while Phil knows better than to assume that Dan will abandon their friendship, he also knows that things will change.

Over the weeks leading up to July 28th, he never once checks Dan's future. In fact, he avoids using his gift altogether. He focuses on work and the fun he has with Dan, trying to pretend that he doesn't see the way Dan anxiously checks the calendar in the kitchen each and every morning.

 

Dan still hadn't met them, that mysterious stranger. Phil is starting to wonder whether his vision was wrong. Perhaps they will first meet at the flower show? Or perhaps Phil, by interfering and telling Dan all about it, managed to ruin his friend's chance at happiness?

No matter how conflicted he feels, he hates the thought of _that_.

The vision made it clear. This person would make Dan impossibly happy. Phil wants that for him, even if it comes at a price for Phil too.

 

Sometimes, on particularly lonely nights, his thoughts travel back to the past. To that one night.

And he can't bring himself to think that it was a mistake. Not anymore.

 

With the beginning of July, they both slowly drop their facade. They still spend all their time together, but somehow, it feels like their time together is running out. To quiet down the thought, Phil has them doing all sorts of things they never bothered to do before. While it's all Phil's idea, Dan gives in without a word of complaint.

They go on a tourist kind of trip around London. They ride that big red bus, and they get lost on the tube, and they run into some rather shady people at two in the morning. But they make it out alright, and once they get home, they're laughing at the experience. They play the games they bought and never tried, and watch the shows they've been putting off. They try to cook more and give up after three days of semi-failed attempts.

And yet, even with them so busy with work and all of Phil's long list of activities, Phil notices Dan growing antsy. He sees the way Dan pays closer attention to each new person they meet, almost as if expecting them to suddenly ask him out. At the same time, Dan makes no move to try and get with anyone, which makes Phil wonder if this version of the future even stands a chance.

Maybe he'd messed it all up. Dan should have met them by now.

 

On the night of July 27th, they stay up late. They eventually end up on Phil's bed, pretending to watch _Friends_ while staring at the clock. They're both laid side by side, with only their heads propped against Phil's green and blue pillows.

Once it strikes midnight, Dan sighs and turns off the telly.

"It's today," Dan whispers, putting an end to their silent agreement not to acknowledge anything related to Phil's vision.

"Yeah," Phil mutters.

Dan is so close that Phil basically feels the warmth radiating off his body. If Phil moved just a little, he would be touching Dan – shoulders, arms, maybe hands.

Too big a risk.

"What should I do, Phil?" Dan asks him with a slight tremble in his voice. "I've not met anyone."

 _Just stay here with me,_ Phil wants to say, but that would be beyond selfish. Interfering with the future is wrong, because... well, because it's _wrong_. Because his grandma said so. And because his fate, in this strange life he had been assigned at birth, is to look without changing anything. He just gets to know some things in advance.

It's not a gift. It's a bloody _curse_.

But would Dan even know to visit the flower show if not for Phil? He decides not to even think about that tonight.

"I think... well, you _need_ to go there, right? It's what I'd seen. Maybe it will be a bit different, but I think—I think you'll meet them there, Dan. One way or another."

Phil hears Dan swallow thickly and let out a shaky breath.

"What if I don't go?" Dan pauses. "Will it like... will the universe like, implode or something?"

Phil chuckles, if somewhat against his will. "I dunno. Maybe? I have no idea. All my other visions just sort of... fall into place? It's all a mess with this one. I should've never told you about it."

"You should have. I'm glad you told me."

They fall silent. Dan scoots in closer until his curls are tickling Phil's cheek.

Phil finds that he simultaneously cannot breathe, and breathes easier than ever before.

"Phil?" Dan whispers after a long stretch of silence.

"Yeah?"

"You'll wait for me to come back? Later today."

Phil's voice breaks only slightly when he replies, "Yeah. Yeah, of course I'll wait."

 

*

 

Dan leaves around noon, and Phil begins pacing the flat almost immediately. For the first time ever, he wishes he could see the future without touching a person's hand. He wishes he could be a fly on the wall, or in this case, on Dan's shoulder, so that he could see the whole thing with his own eyes.

He wants to know who it is, and he wants to know if his vision will come true.

If it does, then Dan will be happy – of that, Phil is absolutely certain. And if it doesn't? Dan will probably feel disappointed, and Phil won't feel as disappointed as a truly good friend should.

He sighs. He is despicable, is he not? Wishing for Dan's lack of happiness only so that he could keep his company for a little longer. He doesn't want to lose his friend.

 _Being in a relationship doesn't mean Dan will no longer be my friend_ , he chastises himself, but it doesn't help. It hasn't helped since the very first time he'd seen that vision. It always felt like a loss. Dan's gain, Phil's loss.

But why? What is he losing other than maybe living with Dan and some of his time? Which on its own is a lot, but Phil had already tried to come to terms with that. It's something else - a nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

What could it be?

 

He throws himself on the bed, head first. The pillow still smells like Dan's shampoo from when they were laid here last night. He burrows his head in it, inhaling deep.

It suddenly hits him, much like his visions usually do, only he is not having one right now.

It's not the friendship that he mourns. It's the _what if_.

It's that drunken night all those years ago, and the weeks of uncertainty that followed. It's that conversation that they never really had. It's the fact – yes, _fact_ – that those feelings, once they appeared, never really went away. Phil just got really, really good at lying to himself over the past few years.

He always yearned for that _what if_. For that addition to their amazing friendship. For the very thing he'd always been too scared to reach for.

 

Suddenly, images appear before his eyes, each lasting less than a second. Snapshots from a future he wanted, but never got to see. He and Dan building a life together in a way that is different from what they have now. He and Dan sleeping together, wrapped up in each other, Dan snoring softly somewhere near Phil's chest. He and Dan buying a house. He and Dan having breakfast in bed. He and Dan ten years from now.

He and Dan.

Yes, that is the _dream_ , but it doesn't go along with the future he'd predicted for Dan. And he cannot interfere. He cannot go there now, cannot tell Dan to—

He _shouldn't_ interfere.

He—

 _I can't do this_. _I can't just—_

 

He is already out the door before he even gets to finish that thought.

 

*

 

The reality is always a bit different from his visions.

The flowers _are_ beautiful, but he recognises maybe three or four types. The path is paved with stone, but he isn't in a field. The sun is shining brightly, but he can't hear any bees. This is a botanic garden that is hosting a flower show, and it's filled to the brim with people.

 

Despite the change in surroundings, he knows his way around here as though he'd already been here before. He pushes past all sorts of people, keeping his eyes wide open in search of Dan.

He _needs_ to find Dan. What then? He doesn't know. He hadn't planned that far.

 

Maybe he can still make it. Maybe he can still try.

What if he ruins Dan's chance at happiness?

He can't do that. He can't.

He will find Dan and keep his distance. If his vision becomes real, Phil will go home and never mention this to anyone.

But if not...

If not, then maybe...

 

He is completely out of breath by the time he finds Dan, and once he does, it's different from his vision too.

Dan isn't standing in an open field filled with flowers. He is sitting on a bench, looking around warily, seemingly scanning each and every passing person.

He is alone. Phil freezes.

He's made it this far, but what to do now?

He can't interfere with the future. He can't.

He should go. He should go home.

 

He is too late.

Dan spots him, and despite the distance, Phil clearly sees the way his eyes widen at the sight. Dan stands up abruptly, but makes no move to walk towards Phil. They both stand there, several feet apart, suspended in this reality that was never meant to happen.

All of a sudden, Phil's vision goes black for a split second. And then, he sees it.

 

The field full of flowers. The vibrant colours, impossible to achieve in reality. The silence only disrupted by the sound of the bees.

Dan. Right ahead of Phil. Looking at him with the biggest smile Phil had ever seen.

Phil frowns, shocked, as he looks all around, trying to find signs of the people that were there seconds ago, but they are nowhere to be found.

Except just one, standing to the right, quite far away. Phil squints, trying to see the person that stands there just as frozen as both he and Dan.

He nearly gasps when he realises that he's looking at himself. This is he, this is Phil, the Phil that had seen this vision all those months ago.

And that means that he…

_No. No. No._

_That's... No. That can't be right. No._

_No._

_No? But why not?_

 

Without another thought, he starts running in Dan's direction, but he is abruptly pulled out of the vision and back to reality.

Only this time, as his eyes immediately meet Dan's in the crowd, he is greeted by the very expression he'd just seen seconds ago. That smile, brighter than the sun. It wasn't real then.

It is real now.

He runs. He runs as fast as he can, bumping into all the people that stand in his way, and he only stops when he is right before Dan.

 

They stand there, obstacles to the ever-impatient crowd, and look each other in the eyes for what feels like an eternity. Phil doesn't know if Dan knows yet.

But Phil _does_ know. Phil understands.

It all makes sense. Why Dan hadn't met anyone. Why Phil kept having these weird visions. Why he made the choice to change the future, even though he'd never done it before.

Why? Because there was nothing to change. This is the course of action he had predicted.

And now, Dan walks over even closer, close enough for them to touch.

Phil tunes out the whole world. For this one moment, it truly feels like they are alone. For this one moment, the only thing that matters is Dan's proximity and the unrestrained happiness Phil finds in his eyes.

"It's you, isn't it?" Dan asks, but it's more of a statement than a question.

"I'm not sure," Phil admits. His gaze flits between Dan's eyes and lips. "But it's—it feels like—it feels like it might be."

Dan beams at him. The smile Phil sees on his face is the biggest he'd ever seen it. In the corners of Dan's eyes, Phil spots a small trace of tears.

The future is not clear. Not everything Phil ever sees comes true. Not everything makes sense. Not everything is good.

But somehow, just this once, Phil feels like he was given the greatest gift he ever could have wished for. Because it led him here, where he was always meant to be. But what about Dan? Is this really the destiny that he should be living out, or is it just Phil's dream?

 

Dan lets out a soft chuckle, smiling through the tears that threaten to spill onto his cheeks at any time. He embraces Phil – a quick, tight hug that Phil surrenders to completely. After a moment, Dan pulls back and his eyes begin to search Phil's.

This isn't exactly like Phil's vision, but that doesn't make it _wrong_.

They are not alone. They are not kissing. Dan hasn't said _hello_. And yet, Phil knows. He just _knows_.

He didn't _alter_ the future. He merely followed its course.

"It's you," Dan repeats. "It's you."

"It's me. Well, I… I _think_ it's me," Phil replies, a hint of shyness easy to spot in his voice.

Dan pulls him in again, kissing his cheek ever so briefly, sending a swarm of butterflies flying throughout Phil's entire body. Phil brushes his hand, for once not afraid of what he might see.

"And you… You—you came here? Why? Did you have another vision?" Dan asks, lightly brushing a stray bit of hair away from Phil's face.

"It's a long story." Phil pauses. When they get home, he will have to tell Dan what he saw on his way here. He will have to tell him that this was indeed meant to happen, and he will tell him about this new version of the future that lies ahead of them. But not right now. "I wanted you to be happy, Dan, I just thought… maybe... it could be with me."

Seeing Dan smile like this gives Phil a sense of hope.

"You know, I don't think I _could_ be happy if it wasn't with you."

 

After a second of hesitation, Phil takes Dan's hand in his.

The future had never seemed brighter.

**Author's Note:**

> [Reblog this on tumblr if you liked it!](http://phanbliss.tumblr.com/post/181473829870/never-quite-as-it-seems) Comments are appreciated :)
> 
> MASSIVE thank you to my wonderful beta reader [insectbah](http://insectbah.tumblr.com), who was promised a 5k fic by mid-December, and instead got this monstrosity on the day before it was due. You're amazing!!!!!!  
> Thank you to my two great friends: [i-am-my-opheliac](http://i-am-my-opheliac.tumblr.com) and [thelesterhowells](http://thelesterhowells.tumblr.com) who gave me a lot of help with this fic too!


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